Chapter 40 - Tears (CF)
Tubba was en route to the throne room of the Clubba Castle, feeling pain echo through every part of his body from his wounds. A week had passed since the Koopas had conceded Gusty Gulch, and a temporary treaty had been agreed upon with the Mushrooms and their allies, giving the Clubbas both an ally and a way to discourage the Koopas from resuming the war. The Mushrooms had done most of the negotiations with the Koopas, the Koopas retreating back to the ring of mountains around the inner Koopa Kingdom to lick their wounds after their first defeat under their new King, Ludwig von Koopa. But none of this truly mattered to Tubba - all that mattered was that Gusty Gulch and the surrounding areas belonged to the Clubbas once more. The Clubbas had to decide on a monarch. Most of them leaned naturally toward Tubba, who had been able to defer the decision a week as he mulled over his thoughts. He was a leading light in their ultimately successful campaign to retake Gusty Gulch, and was the last remaining heir of Cloansar, and part of the original ruling Clubba Blubba house. But did that mean he was the right person to lead all the Clubbas? Tubba didn’t think so. There were two major contributing factors to his belief. One, he had been given everything as a young Clubba, from riches to privileges, and he cast them away for nothing tangible. Who was to say he wouldn’t feel the undesired emotions and be a poor ruler for the Clubbas? Secondly, the Clubbas were in desperate need of a stable ruler. Whoever became the monarch would be the fourth ruler Gusty Gulch had had in the past six years, with Mycerinus, Tubba’s cousin, Mazette, Mycerinus’ Queen and later a Ward of Ludwig, her successor. Preceding the relative stability of Mycerinus’ ten year reign was another chaotic year, where three other rulers had taken the throne, two for immensely short periods of time: Tubba’s father, Tubba himself, and Chubba. Seven rulers in sixteen years was hardly healthy for a populace. With Tubba knowing he was doomed to death sooner than most Clubbas, it would be desperately unfair for him to take the throne for what would become a decree that instability would occur again a few years down the line. There was no guarantee Tubba would take a Queen and ever father offspring, a possibility he doubted. Speaking of Mazette, Tubba thought wryly of what had happened to her. The Koopan Ward had been strangely absent from the second battle of Gusty Gulch, before Tubba found out why. She had fled at the fall of the Place of the Unruly, and was now wanted for treason in the Koopa Kingdom. She had gone somewhere off in the world, and had fallen off the face of the Mushroom World. No one knew where she had gone. Offspring. Tubba’s thoughts were bouncing all over the place. Tubba had invited Juranils to live in the Castle as the Clubbas decided a new monarch. If there was to be a monarch that wasn’t Tubba, Juranils would probably not be asked to stay in the Castle, but for now, Tubba was technically the owner of the Castle, as a member of the House of Clubba Blubba, and had no qualms with her and Gonzales’ future child living in the Castle. His godchild. Juranils had blanched at the idea of Tubba being the godfather of her child, and spoke to wanting to return to the isle where the ParaClubbas came from. Tubba was not about to deny her wishes, but he cautioned that Gonzales would’ve wanted her to get to know the place he grew up in. Truly, it was a bunch of fabricated lies to ensure that she stayed for the week the Clubbas were deciding in. Gonzales had been laid to rest in the Clubba graveyard, Tubba selecting the epitaph to read: A true friend. Three words. There was nothing else Tubba could put on there; of course, Juranils had her own paragraphs that she wanted the headstone makers to inscribe onto the diorite tablet. Tubba stepped into the cavernous throne room, remembering what it was like in the reign of his father, the high, arching ceiling with the tapestries depicting events in Clubban history, most prominently Cloansar’s rise to power, but also many selected by the current monarch, such as military victories. Now, the tapestries were being constructed with famous events from the battle that had just occurred: Tubba chuckled a little, Sarge, despite having no power, was adamant a tapestry was made on the scene with Muth. Muth was, incidentally, the Muth they had comforted outside the complex of the tombs. Tubba had named it Muth, and the name had stuck, as poorly creative as it was. Muth lived in Forever Forest for the time being, but Tubba hoped they would move him to Gusty Gulch one day, once all the repairs had been done from the battle, and a place for Muth to live was built. Everyone who Tubba regarded as a close friend, save for Kremstag, who had already gone to the Kremling Islands, was present. They all wore wounds from the battle, but none were as nasty or as severe as Tubba’s. Tubba ran over their faces: Aaron, Shazam, Sarge, Dibby, Blizzerd, Xavier, Gamma, Mud, Galmajo, Paralus... and even Clubbette, who he had begun to forgive for the wrongs he thought she had done. Settled on a pedestal in the centre of the throne room, sitting just in front of a blue and gold gilded throne, was a golden crown. This crown was quite large, with a closed head so that it looked more like a helmet a knight would wear than one a King would, but Tubba knew what it was. It was the crown of the Clubbas. Clubbas rarely wore that crown, but it was symbolic of the power in Gusty Gulch. “Tubba,” Paralus’ deep voice broke the silence that had came upon the group as he walked in. “The Clubbas have decided on their King.” Tubba knew what Paralus was going to say before the orange Clubba said it, and denial was already on his tongue as Paralus said: “You.” Paralus held his hand up to stop Tubba’s protests. “I’ve been talking to Galmajo.” A brief look of discomfort flitted across the Magikoopa’s face as he went on: “He said he may have misdiagnosed how long you had to live. You can take the throne, Tubba,” Tubba had confided his doubts about his lifespan to Paralus, who had clearly brought them up to the Magikoopa. “It’s your throne, after all.” Tubba’s breath hitched in his throat. Could it possibly be true? Could he truly ascend to the throne of Gusty Gulch with the approval of his subjects, which was the only thing he ever wanted? Would he truly be able to live long enough to set up a stable reign for his Kingdom that was suffering because of a lack of consistency in power? He began to take steps to the crown, surprised when no one stopped him. “Where are all you going?” Tubba asked to delay the inevitable, for he knew the answers. Aaron said that he would be returning to Rogueport, as did Gamma and Xavier. Shazam explained that he was going to go back to the Introverts and lead them, with Sarge coming along with him and Dibby was concerned for her subjects in Forever Forest, and immediately answered that she was to be their Queen. Tubba was a bit relieved it would be Dibby he would work with in Forever Forest. Mud informed Tubba that he was going back to the Waffle Kingdom with the SS Mahruav, to be their captain once again, and make up with his brother. “I’m... going with Galmajo to the Zaz Kingdom,” Blizzerd eked out when it was his turn, keeping his pupils away from Tubba’s eyes. “I have to find out what I am. I have to find out what it means to be a Wizzerd, and Galmajo can help me.” The young eighteen year old Wizzerd looked concerned, as if he was scared Tubba would think poorly of him. Tubba thought just the opposite: the Wizzerd had been found by Gonzales many years ago, and had never known what a Wizzerd was. It was only natural. “Clubbette and I are sticking around here,” Paralus spoke for himself and Tubba’s light blue half-sister. Suddenly, Tubba realized what was going on between the two of them. He jumped internally, wondering if Gonzales was really right with how oblivious he was. “Maybe I’ll be a soldier in the army.” “You’ll be much more than that,” Tubba smirked a little. Gonzales was dead, the Clubba he had always thought would be his Commander of the Armies. “You’re the Commander of the Armies, Paralus.” Turning to Clubbette, he continued, remembering his half-sister’s lifelong gripe. “And you, you’ll be part of the house of Clubba Blubba and a member of the royal family, in line to inherit the throne. I decree it. Your kids will be heirs and part of the royal family as well,” Tubba finished. “To have the power to make these decrees, you’d have to be King,” Clubbette said wryly, glancing over the golden crown sitting on the pedestal. “I take it you mean...?” Tubba nodded, placing his hands around the sides of the crown and lifting it into the air so that it dazzled in the light. It may have taken sixteen more years than he thought, involved countless more struggle than he ever thought possible, passed through four other rulers after the death of his father, but as he settled it on his head, he knew he wouldn’t have changed a thing, the lessons he learned, the journey he experienced. He could feel the tears flowing down his face, there were tears of happiness, that somehow, he had managed to overcome the odds. There were tears of sadness, of all that had to suffer and were lost, be they Bubba or Gonzales, his enemies or his friends. There were tears of ambiguity, coming for the sake of tears. Emotion was heaving through him. Ultimately, though, he was glad to be home, and was ready for his next role and the lessons that would come from that journey. The King of the Clubbas.